Michael Jackson, the biggest gift to late night talk show hosts and comedians everywhere, died after the world's shortest coma yesterday. But you already knew that because, I swear to God, celebrities are "tweeting" their condolences. What? What is this world coming to? Jesus Fuck.

Michael Jackson died doing what he loved best: dying.

At least he got all his decomposing over with before he died.

If you're offended by any of this, please s my fucking d. Why do people get all respectful once someone dies? This is the time when we should be making fun of Michael Jackson the most. After all, he can't hear us.

All these people on tv are talking about what a tormented soul Michael Jackson was. How being the #1 star in the history of music didn't bring him happiness. Tormented soul? Fuck that. Dude got to grab his nuts in music videos, had hundreds of fans literally follow him around screaming and crying, had the coolest disease ever (got to live every black person's dream: being a white person), dangled babies off balconies, and gave little kids their first orgasm AND GOT AWAY WITH IT. That's about as good as it gets as far as life goes.

All the bullshitting people do when someone dies is one of my pet peeves. According to every funeral, the person who died was a wonderful person and had many great years ahead of them. Probably not true, and let's ease up on the hyperboles, shall we?

My friend got shot and killed by two black guys a few months ago. (I know what you're thinking: that Paul Frank rolls DEEP. And you're right.) This kid had absolutely no future, though, and so it is not a tragedy in my eyes. He was, in most ways, a complete piece of shit. He lived off checks he got because his dad got in a plane crash and died when he was young and he spent all the money from those checks on drugs. His favorite hobbies were doing drugs, smoking drugs, and taking drugs. He may have been nice and maybe he didn't deserve to die, but I would bet 50 dollars he's rolling in his grave right now. On esctasy. Or he's doing lines off an angel's tits in heaven.

i went to his funeral extremely fucked up (out of respect). I didn't go to the service, but I was at the wake. I wrote in the book thing: "Hey Doug, what up. I believe you still owe $200 but I guess I'll never get that. Tell everyone in heaven or whatever ToxicGreen.com. Peace, Paul Frank." I don't know if he reads that book or what.

I can only imagine what they said at the service: "Doug was a…person. He thoroughly enjoyed doing drugs and had a bright future ahead of him doing tons more. It is amazing the amount of drugs his body could take, and surely his body will be donated to scientists who can do research on his superhuman, drug-resistant/tolerant body. Doug could take 10 ecstasy's and not feel anything. He has in the past taken 14 ecstasy pills and played the blackout game in a hot, dark closet. Doug is quoted as saying ‘I fucking love bellringers.' For those of you who aren't familiar with the term ‘bellringers,' bellringers are when you take a hit of crack so huge that your ears start ringing. He fucking loved those bellringers. Excuse me." (starts tearing up)